


only fools rush in

by oui_oui_mon_ami



Series: can't help falling in love [2]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, First Kiss, Getting Together, M/M, Multi, Police Brutality, Protests
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-07-09 13:30:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19888618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oui_oui_mon_ami/pseuds/oui_oui_mon_ami
Summary: enjolras falls for courfeyrac





	only fools rush in

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Elmer & Spot](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19708501) by [astrangepurplefairy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrangepurplefairy/pseuds/astrangepurplefairy). 



They say you shouldn’t choose your college based on where your friends are planning on going, but nevertheless Enjolras and Combeferre make sure to get into the same place and start a political activism group. With Enjolras as the face of the group and Combeferre preferring to work behind the scenes, the cause starts to gain popularity and soon they are holding weekly meetings with ten or so regular attendees. One of these, who manages to quickly befriend Enjolras and Combeferre, is Courfeyrac, a witty and charming fellow first-year who shares Enjolras’ outspokenness and Combeferre’s attention to detail. Soon the duo at the head of the group becomes a triumvirate, with Courfeyrac slotting so effortlessly into Enjolras and Combeferre’s friendship that it seems like he was there all along.

They hold a few small rallies in first year, but their first big protest isn’t until the start of second year, when they plan to meet in front of the Vice-Chancellor’s offices in objection to rising living costs for students. Enjolras and Courfeyrac are at the front of the picket line with their friends. Combeferre is perched on a wall across the road as a lookout. Enjolras is more than happy with the turnout: the mass of students has all but blocked the street.

“Everything looks good from here, Enjolras,” comes Combeferre’s voice from Enjolras’ walkie-talkie. Enjolras doesn’t reply. Finally, he hears a crackle of static – Combeferre sighing. “Okay, fine. Everything looks good from here, _over_.”

“We okay to get started, over?” Enjolras asks into the walkie-talkie.

“I think so. I’ll let you know if we get any trouble. Stay safe. Over and out.”

Enjolras and Courfeyrac look at each other. “You ready?” Enjolras asks.

Courfeyrac grins. “As I’ll ever be,” he replies. “And I have my keys in my pocket if a fight breaks out.”

“Which won’t happen,” Enjolras says firmly. He doesn’t want anything going wrong at his first protest. This’ll just be peaceful. Hopefully. “Let’s go then.”

Enjolras and Courfeyrac start shouting a chant, and the other students start to join in, waving their signs in the air in the direction of the large doors to the university’s administration building. After a while, Enjolras’ walkie-talkie crackles again.

“Enjolras? The police have turned up, over.”

Enjolras’ heart skips a beat, but he tells himself to stay calm. The police won’t get hostile unless they do. “How many, over?”

“Not sure. There are two cars on your left, and… shit, a van just turned up on your right, a big one. Over.”

Courfeyrac has stopped chanting and is looking at him now with a concerned expression. “What’s wrong?” he half-yells over the noise.

“Police,” Enjolras mouths back. “What do you suggest we do?” he asks into the walkie-talkie.

“Stay calm, be respectful towards them. They shouldn’t attack a peaceful protest.”

“But they might,” Enjolras infers.

“Possibly. Please, if they do, get yourself out of there, okay? And Courf and R if you can. For me.”

Enjolras doesn’t want to do anything of the sort. But he knows how much Combeferre worries about him at these things. “Okay,” he replies.

“I can take perfect care of myself, thank you very much,” Grantaire says over Enjolras’ shoulder.

Combeferre laughs, a rustle of static in the walkie-talkie. “Stay safe, all of you. Over and out.”

Courfeyrac taps Enjolras’ shoulder and points at where a policeman has appeared at the front of the crowd with a megaphone. Damn, he should have brought a megaphone. The policeman presses the alarm on the megaphone until the chanting dies away. The unsettled quiet of the crowd is eerie.

“This is an unauthorised protest,” the policeman says. “Disperse now and there will be no consequences.”

Several students, including Courfeyrac, look to Enjolras. “This is not an unauthorised protest,” Enjolras says, stepping forward and hoping he sounds more imposing than he feels. “We have a permit to peacefully protest here, and we have a right to object to the careless decisions the heads of our university are making.” He gets a few cheers for that.

“No protest is authorised until the police approve it in advance.”

“I filed a report to the police myself and it was approved yesterday, I have a printout of the approval as well as the permit here,” Enjolras says, holding out a few pieces of paper.

The policeman, who Enjolras can now see is far taller than he is, approaches him and takes the paper. He scans the pieces for a moment. “This is fake,” he says.

“What?” Enjolras says, perhaps a little too loudly. There’s muttering in the crowd.

“These documents have been forged. We received no report and so we have to ask you to leave the premises.”

“You’re lying,” Courfeyrac says firmly, and Enjolras winces as the policeman fixes him with a glare. More police have appeared and it looks like they’re surrounded.

“Are you accusing a police officer of dishonesty?”

“These aren’t fake,” Enjolras says before Courfeyrac can speak. “I can get copies up on my phone if you need further confirmation-”

“Enjolras? Status report,” Combeferre says through the walkie-talkie. Courfeyrac takes the device from Enjolras’ pocket and starts whispering into it.

“Who are you talking to?” the police officer asks sharply.

“Just our friend,” Enjolras says.

“I’m going to have to confiscate this device,” the police officer says, reaching for the walkie-talkie.

“No!” Enjolras cries reflexively, but he doesn’t know what to say or do now.

And then he catches sight of a flash of light arcing through the air and landing on the pavement a few metres away from the crowd.

A flare.

The policeman immediately steps back, fumbling for his own radio. “This is now a hostile protest. Do not resist arrest.”

Enjolras is frozen to the spot as the policeman yells instructions into his radio. How on earth did this protest go so disastrously wrong? The policeman lunges at him and tries to grab his wrist, but Enjolras is yanked back by Courfeyrac, who drags him into the panicking crowd. “We have to go,” he says, his eyes wide.

“We can’t just run away,” Enjolras argues, pulling his arm out of Courfeyrac’s grip. He thinks he can see Grantaire swinging at the policeman with the megaphone, yelling at them to run.

“Would you rather stay here and get beaten up by police?” Courfeyrac asks. “We know now that they don’t play fair. We need to get to safety.”

“We’re surrounded.”

“Come with me.” Courfeyrac grabs Enjolras’ hand and pulls him between running students until they reach the patch of green on the other side of the road. Combeferre’s disappeared from his perch on the wall, and Enjolras hopes to whatever deities there may be out there that he’s okay. They climb over the wall, managing to avoid the attention of any police, and Courfeyrac takes his hand again as they run along the wall, cut across the grass, dodge around a couple of trees and find a narrow alleyway leading to what Enjolras realises is one of the campus’ main streets.

Courfeyrac stops and leans against a wall, gasping for breath. Enjolras stands in front of him, one arm out to lean against the wall. He’s breathing heavily and his legs are strangely numb. He can still just about hear people screaming. It makes him want to throw up.

“Enjolras? Stay with me. We’re okay. We’re good. We made it,” Courfeyrac is saying, squeezing Enjolras’ hand. They still have their hands intertwined. “No one knows this place exists, so if we stay here for a while and keep quiet, we should be fine.”

“This is all my fault,” Enjolras chokes out.

“No, no it’s not. It’s the police’s fault. No one could have predicted this.” Courfeyrac’s eyes are still wide with worry, searching Enjolras’ face. “You’re fine. We’re fine. Just breathe with me, okay?”

Enjolras does, keeping his eyes trained on Courfeyrac’s face. On his eyes, wide and blue and beautiful. He doesn’t even realise he’s leaning in until his lips are on Courfeyrac’s.

They’re chapped and taste slightly of blood and smoke, and Courfeyrac inhales in surprise. In a split second Enjolras realises the bizarreness of what he’s doing – he’s kissing one of his best friends, for crying out loud – and pulls back.

Only for Courfeyrac to follow his lips and draw him back in.

And then they’re making out in a cold, dark, damp alleyway, within earshot of a scene of ongoing police brutality, and this isn’t even the friend that Enjolras is in love with, and it feels so wrong to him – but at the same time he wants to badly to hold onto a shred of warmth right now.

And maybe he does love Courfeyrac a little.

Courfeyrac breaks the kiss, pulls back to look in Enjolras’ eyes. “This isn’t right. You’re not right in the head-”

“I’m perfectly right in the head,” Enjolras argues. “In fact, this” – he squeezes Courfeyrac’s hand – “is the only thing I’m sure of right now.” Courfeyrac blinks, and Enjolras takes that as a cue to lean in again. “Tell me to stop,” he whispers against his lips.

Courfeyrac doesn’t.

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: sunshine-soprano


End file.
